


how the thought of you does things to me

by Finduilas



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, Domestic Avengers, FRIDAY knows everything, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Sam and Bucky are little shits, Steve Rogers' beard - Freeform, Tony Stark's Butt, but in the nicest way possible, steve has feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:07:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22601446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finduilas/pseuds/Finduilas
Summary: Steve has a thing for Tony's butt. Tony has a thing for Steve's beard. They're both very obvious about it (just ask any of their friends!), but somehow they manage to also be completely oblivious.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 24
Kudos: 431





	how the thought of you does things to me

**Author's Note:**

> Mako gave me the prompt of Steve having a thing for Tony's butt, and wanting to reach out and smack it every time he saw it. Then I also saw a prompt on twitter that went like this : “My roommate just told me to stop growing my beard because if I get any more handsome, he’s gonna have to fuck me, but what he doesn’t know is that I want that.” And that made me think of Tony having a thing for Steve's beard. So I combined the two and wrote this fic. 
> 
> Thank you to Gemma for the Beta!

It’s really not a statement, fashion or otherwise, despite what the tabloids are writing. (And why on earth is his facial hair even worthy of articles anyway?) It is also not a case of copying, despite what Thor keeps claiming. Steve just likes the beard. He finds it comfortable - comforting even - and he just simply… likes it. He likes the way it feels when he scratches it, he likes not having to shave every day, and if he’s quite honest, he thinks it’s a pretty good look on him. Not that Steve is vain or anything, but he does care about how he presents himself. He finds it simple common courtesy towards the people around him to take care of himself. And he just likes the beard. Period. 

The fact that he’s been observing Tony’s reactions and concluding that Tony also likes the beard has nothing to do with it. Nothing at all. It’s just… a nice bonus. 

Tony never actually says anything though - which is weird because everyone else does, and Tony usually isn’t one to hold back on sarcastic comments or sly jokes - but Steve has noticed the way his gaze lingers a little bit longer; the way his pupils dilate when Steve tilts his head back and scratches his neck lazily, fingers scraping under his jawbone; the way his breathing gets just a tiny bit heavier or his heartbeat just a little bit faster. All of these things make Steve even less inclined to shave any time soon. 

He knows that it might just be a physical reaction on Tony’s part, nothing more. Steve knows it’s entirely possible to appreciate another person’s physique, to be attracted to a certain type, without it having to mean anything deeper. Steve has heard all about Tony’s casual approach to sex before Pepper and before this whole avenging-as-a-team thing started taking up most of their time. Steve doesn’t think Tony has been having any hook-ups lately, not since he and Pepper called it quits for real, but he figures there’s always a possibility of Tony just being more discreet about it, not bringing anyone home to the tower now that they all live there. Steve tries not to think too much about that option though. 

So yeah, Steve knows that Tony likes his beard, but he thinks he probably wouldn’t have picked up on it if his senses hadn’t been enhanced by the serum, which is why Steve hopes that Tony hasn’t picked up on the fact that he has a problem of his own. 

Tony Stark’s butt. 

Steve knows the jokes about his own ass, how they call it America’s Ass; how it looks in the tight uniform, and yeah, he knows the serum gave him all the right curves in all the right places, but what he doesn’t understand is why nobody is ever talking about Tony’s ass. Surely Steve can’t be the only one that has noticed its utter perfection? Surely Steve can’t be the only one that can’t tear his eyes away from it, whose fingers twitch every time Tony turns his back on him. 

Steve is grateful for one thing and that is that whenever they’re in battle Tony is in his suit, which covers up his behind, because Steve isn’t sure he wouldn’t get distracted by it at crucial moments. It most definitely is a distraction to Steve in everyday life and that is embarrassing enough as it is. 

Tony likes wearing tight pants, and it’s not that Steve  _ doesn’t _ like it -  _ au contraire _ \- it’s just… Tony will walk past in the kitchen and Steve will almost choke on his orange juice at the sight of those buns bouncing perfectly inside the fine contraption of fabric, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. Steve’s hands would be itching to reach out and touch, gently sliding his fingers down the curve, giving it a squeeze, or actually smack his palm over Tony’s flawless cheeks and watch them jiggle. It’s not a kink Steve thought he had until Tony’s butt happened. 

The worst, the absolute worst, is those times that Tony will stretch out; just reach his arms up high above his head, stand up on the toes of his feet and stretch his entire body. He does it when he’s been hunched over a table for too long, or when he’s getting up from the couch after a movie, or when he’s been squatting or lying on the floor of his workshop tinkering at his suit and he feels the need to adjust his body a little bit. 

Or right now, for no apparent reason, when Tony gets up off his chair at the kitchen table and hooks his fingers together before raising his arms, stretching out his entire body. He makes this  _ noise _ as he arches his back and sticks out his butt and the edge of his shirt rises up just enough to reveal a sliver of skin and Steve has to put down his drink because he isn’t entirely convinced the glass won’t shatter beneath his fingers if he doesn’t. Tony is unashamed as he groans, all the while still unfurling his body, and super soldier or not, Steve  _ knows _ he’s blushing as his eyes rake over Tony’s body, unable to stop himself. 

“You know what, kids,” Tony says with a content sigh as he finally lowers his arms, tilting his head to the side, cracking his neck. His ass is still a perfect bubble, calling out to Steve. “I might actually make it an early night tonight.” 

“Tony Stark going to bed before 3 AM,” Natasha ponders out loud as she finishes off her plate. “That’s one for the history books.” 

“It’s possible I had an early start this morning,” Tony says casually as he picks up his plate from the table and walks it over to the dishwasher, sauntering past Steve on the way. Steve has to curl his fingers into a fist to resist the urge to reach out and slap that ass.  _ What the hell is happening to him?  _

“Is that code for ‘you didn’t go to bed at all?’” Clint asks, also getting up from the table, which seems to trigger a chain reaction as Vision and Wanda slide their chairs back and stand as well. 

Tony just shrugs as he loads his dirty dishes into the open machine, holding out his hand to take Natasha’s as well. 

“FRIDAY?” Bucky asks, not looking up at the ceiling as he talks to the AI, but instead keeping his eyes fixed on Tony with a smirk. 

“Boss has been awake for exactly 34 hours and 26 minutes,” FRIDAY’s voice rings through the kitchen. 

“Hey! Snowflakes!” Tony calls out, pointing a finger at Bucky, “You don’t get to use my tech against me.” There is no heat behind the words, which Bucky knows, and so he doesn’t hesitate to flip Tony off. 

“Play nice, boys,” Natasha warns, her voice all but sing-songy. 

“Go to bed, Tony,” Rhodey says, the voice of reason, removing some cutlery from Tony’s hands and taking over the task of loading the dishwasher from him. 

“Why is everyone ganging up on me all of a sudden?” Tony asks, frowning as he looks around the kitchen, “Did I not just  _ say _ that I was planning on going to bed early tonight?”

“You saying it doesn’t mean you’re actually gonna do it,” Bruce interjects, an apologetic look on his face. 

“You could get distracted by something shiny on the way to the elevator,” Clint piles on, a smug smile on his face, “And then you’ll end up going down to the workshop and pull another all nighter.” 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Steve says as he gets up from his chair, palms flat on the table, feeling the need to intervene. _ To protect Tony, _ his mind supplies treacherously. Bucky opens his mouth to say something else but Steve shoots him a dirty look, and Bucky leans back into his seat, silently. 

“We just worry about you, is all,” Steve says softer as he turns towards Tony, a hand on his shoulder, “We all need sleep, Tony.” 

For a second Tony looks like he’s about to argue, but there must be something in Steve’s eyes that convince him otherwise, as Tony nods and says, “ _ Fine _ . I’m going, I’m going.” 

Steve can’t help but smile approvingly, and as Tony turns to leave, Steve’s hand somehow finds its way towards the small of Tony’s back, as if he’s guiding him in the right direction. Steve doesn’t even know how it happened and all he can do is release his touch on Tony slowly and thank God that his hand didn’t actually drift lower. Tony either doesn’t seem to notice, or doesn’t seem to care. 

“FRIDAY, let us know if Tony doesn’t make a straight line towards his bedroom, please,” Steve calls out as Tony exits. 

“Certainly, Captain,” rings the answer. 

Tony doesn’t even look behind him but just sticks up his middle finger in Steve’s general direction. Steve’s gaze doesn’t leave Tony until he disappears out of view.

When he looks around the kitchen again, Sam’s eyes are fixed on his. 

“Subtlety really isn’t your middle name, is it?” Sam says, a smirk tugging at his lips, and Steve can feel his cheeks heat up again. 

“I believe it’s Grant,” Thor says matter-of-factly, handing Rhodey the last of the dirty dishes. 

***

Steve is just finishing up a sparring session with Bucky, clasping his hand in Bucky’s as he helps him off the mat, the sound of Sam’s blows on the punching bag echoing throughout the gym as Tony walks in. He’s wearing sweatpants that are so tight around the butt that Steve thinks he might have bought a size too small, and a tank top that shows off his arm muscles, which are about just as unfair as his ass, if Steve is completely honest with himself. 

Tony throws his towel down on one of the benches. 

As he watches Bucky peel the tape off his hands, Tony asks, “Tired already, Barnes?” 

Bucky scoffs. “Steve can go a few more rounds though,” he says with a smirk, shooting Steve a look, and Steve swears he hates Bucky just a tiny bit at this moment. 

“Oh yeah,” Sam chimes in, “Steve can do this all day.” And that’s it, Sam is on the shit list as well. 

“I’m not entirely sure how well my ego can handle taking a beating from a Super Soldier, to be honest,” Tony says with a smile as he starts to tape up his hands. 

“I’ll go easy on you.” Steve doesn’t even realize the words have left his mouth, ‘cause what he  _ meant _ to say was something discouraging him from being in such close proximity to Tony’s body, because he’s not sure he can handle it. 

Tony smirks at him. “Let me warm up a bit first,” he says, making his way over to the punching bags. He throws another glance at Steve that Steve can’t quite read. “Don’t wanna pull a muscle.” 

Tony takes the punching bag next to Sam’s, and starts to make a few slow hits, to test the waters. He rakes his hands through his hair and positions himself correctly - legs slightly parted - and then starts taking earnest swings, his hands colliding hard with the bag, echoing in the room in an off-set rhythm with Sam’s. His back is half turned towards Steve, which leaves Steve with the torturing view of Tony’s ass. The pants curve tantalizingly over the swell, his cheeks outlined perfectly in the black of the fabric, shaking in unison with each of Tony’s hits. Steve can even see the slight dip to the side every time Tony clenches as he tightens up his muscles to throw a punch and - 

With one fell swoop, Steve falls backwards onto the mat, Bucky’s foot hooked under his leg, and he’s staring up at the ceiling. A rushed breath escapes his lungs as he hits the floor, and Steve blinks a few times, before focusing his eyes on Bucky, who just looks down at him, hands in his side. 

“It’s for your own good, buddy,” he smirks, low enough so that only the two of them can hear. 

“Wha - ?” Steve asks, scrambling up off the floor inelegantly. 

He takes Bucky’s hand that greets him halfway, and when Bucky hauls him up and pulls him close, he whispers in Steve’s ear, “You need to do something about this, man. Just tell him already.” 

Even though his heartbeat is going a mile a second, Steve doesn’t pretend not to know what the other man is talking about. Bucky knows him too well for that. 

“I just…” Steve sighs, his eyes flicking over to Tony quickly, still throwing punches at the bag. He catches Sam glancing over with a knowing smile - Steve sure knows how to pick his friends - before turning his attention back to Bucky. “Yeah, maybe.” The words sound weak, and Bucky clearly knows it, since he rolls his eyes at Steve. 

He takes a step back, further away from Steve, and calls out, “Sam!” For a second, Steve’s heart leaps up in his throat, because he thinks Bucky is calling Sam to spill the beans on his little Tony problem right in front of the man himself, but when Sam stops punching and turns his attention to them, Bucky says, “I’m done for the day.”

Sam nods, his eyes making their way from Steve to Tony, and calls back, “Hang on. I’m calling it quits too.” He gives Tony a friendly pat on the shoulder as he walks past, and a wink to Steve before walking out of the gym with Bucky. 

Steve kinda loves and hates his friends at the same time, because he knows exactly what they’re doing. 

“I have an important meeting this afternoon,” Tony says as he abandons the punching bags and makes his way over to Steve, pulling him out of his reverie. Steve blinks at Tony, trying not to stare at the way his muscles flex or his pants cling to his thighs. “So if you could  _ not _ give me a black eye or a busted lip, that’d be great.” Tony winks, toeing off his shoes and socks and pushing them to the side. 

“I’ll uh… do my best,” Steve says, staring at Tony, his mouth suddenly very dry. 

“Good,” Tony says, jumping up and down a bit on the mat, warming up. “I mean… if you’re up for it?” Tony frowns at him, like he’s suddenly unsure if he’s intruding on Steve. “I know it’s probably more fun for you with Bucky. You don’t have to hold back and all. I can just…” Tony hooks his thumb over his shoulder, pointing at the work-out material around the gym. 

“No!” Steve shouts out too quickly, “Sorry, I was just, uhm… distracted.” He clears his throat, willing himself to get his act together and just be normal. 

“Yeah…” Tony says absentmindedly, and Steve could swear Tony’s eyes just wandered down to his beard real quick, before meeting Steve’s again. “So you’re good?”

“Absolutely,” Steve says, plastering a broad smile on his face. “And I don’t mind reining it in a bit,” he adds, to reassure Tony, “It’s not just about strength anyway, you can do so much with technique and speed and - ” Tony’s palm flies out to tap Steve on the cheek before Steve even realizes what is going on. It’s in no way aggressive or hard, and Tony is grinning ear to ear as he says, “And surprise?” 

“Oh, you’re on,” Steve grins, bringing his hands up into fists as he starts shuffling on the mat. They start sparring, and while it’s true that Steve does have to hold back - Tony is strong, but the serum gives Steve an unfair advantage - he enjoys spending time with Tony in every way, shape, or form. Tony is quick and nimble, and Steve loves to see the way he moves, admires how he tries to find ways to catch Steve by surprise during their training sessions and absolutely adores the way Tony laughs when he succeeds. 

Steve doesn’t let Tony win though, or fake any defeats. He knows that Tony would see right through him anyway. So more often than not, it’s Steve that has the upper hand, which is how he finds Tony pinned face down on the mat, Steve spread out on top of him, and Steve immediately regrets everything in his life.

Because Tony is panting heavily as he laughs, and Steve’s body is completely aligned with Tony’s, which results in the curve of his hips curled over the swell of Tony’s perfect ass, and Steve freezes like a deer in headlights. He swallows hard, his entire body painfully aware of the warmth of Tony’s; of the way his chest heaves up and down, the way his butt rubs up against him as Tony squirms underneath him to find his way out. He laughs again as he goes slack, tapping his hand on the mat and says, “Okay, okay, you win.” 

Steve sucks in a breath as he scrambles off of Tony, leaning back on his knees, sitting down on his feet. Tony rolls over with ease, smiling up at Steve. “Damn, you’re heavy, Cap,” Tony says, brushing his hands over his chest. 

Steve mutters an apology. His breathing is heavy and he knows it’s not because of the workout. Tony climbs to his feet with a groan. “I think that’s probably enough exercise for one day,” he says, pulling Steve up as well, “Don’t wanna get too healthy.” Tony stretches his shoulders and neck. 

“I’m sure you’ll balance it out by not eating or sleeping for a day or two,” Steve quips, trying not to let his eyes linger on Tony’s lean yet muscular form. 

“Either that, or getting myself almost killed in our next battle,” Tony jokes in kind. 

“You know, you’re not funny,” Steve says, shaking his head, because he absolutely does not want to linger on  _ that _ , even though he knows Tony is just joking. 

“Now that’s a lie,” Tony says, confident, as he picks up his towel from the bench where he left it and wipes his face. “I’m gonna go take a shower. Thanks for the workout.” 

He strides by Steve on his way to the exit, and Steve honestly doesn’t know how it happens. He doesn’t feel his hand move, his brain certainly doesn’t give permission to his body, and yet as he hears himself say, “Nice job,” he can simultaneously hear the slap of his palm on Tony’s butt, feel the spark of the touch all but burn his hand, and he freezes as he realizes what he’s done. 

He has slapped Tony Stark on the ass. 

_ He has slapped Tony Stark on the ass. _

He has no idea how he could have let this happen. Steve knows his face is heating up as his entire body stands there, frozen, and he can still feel the tingle on his palm. 

Tony turns halfway towards him, and Steve braces himself for… He isn’t quite sure. A punch? A demand for an explanation? Only, Tony is smirking as he says, “Careful, you,” and then he walks out of the gym with an extra bounce in his step, leaving Steve standing there completely bewildered. 

***

Steve doesn’t show his face in the common areas on the tower for a day and a half. 

So of course Sam and Bucky show up. 

“You missed dinner last night,” Sam says as he plops down on Steve’s couch, feet on the coffee table. Despite wanting to, Steve doesn’t comment.

“And breakfast this morning,” Bucky adds, eyeing Steve carefully. 

“I was out for a run,” Steve shrugs, leaning against the doorframe, aiming for nonchalance. 

“For fourteen hours?” Sam shoots him a look that says he missed. 

“No, I…” Steve starts, then shakes his head and says, “It’s not like we eat every meal together! We’re not some codependent family that can’t take a step without everyone else knowing about it.” 

“Jury’s still out on that,” Bucky deadpans and Steve can’t really blame him. 

“Tony missed you,” Sam says deliberately and it feels like a suckerpunch. 

“That’s low, Wilson,” Steve says, clenching his jaw. He resists the urge to ask if this was something Tony said, or just something Sam is claiming. 

“I’m just trying to make this thing move along,” Sam says, “Because we can sit here and beat around the bush all day, but we all know you’ve been avoiding him since yesterday.” 

“And so you two have to stick your noses in it?” Steve asks, looking pointedly from Sam to Bucky. 

“I was happy to leave his big ass behind for this,” Bucky mumbles, as if Sam can’t hear him, “But he’s a clingy son of a bitch.” 

“Hey!” Sam calls out, indignant, but Bucky simply ignores him. 

“I just wanna talk to my friend,” Bucky says as he takes a few steps towards Steve, looking at him sympathetically. 

Steve sighs, then nods. “Remember how incredibly awkward I was every time you tried to fix me up with one of your gals’ friends?” 

“I have a vague recollection, yeah,” Bucky smirks quietly. Then his eyes give Steve a once-over, “Things have changed a bit since then though.” 

“Not that much, it seems,” Steve says, ducking his head in embarrassment. 

“So, what?” Sam asks, “You got no game? I’m sure Tony’s got enough game for tw - ”

“I smacked him on the ass,” Steve blurts out, effectively shutting Sam up. 

There’s a silence that stretches between them and Steve wishes he really was out for a run right now. Then Bucky lets escape a snort. 

“Buck…” Steve warns. 

“I’m sorry, you did what?” Sam asks, leaning forward on the couch. 

“I don’t know, okay?” Steve says, faltering, “I just…” 

“Did he  _ ask _ you to spank him?” Sam asks, looking at Steve with narrow eyes, “Like, is this some kind of kinky thing you two are into? ‘Cause that’s fine, dude, whatever floats your boat.” 

“Sam!” Steve calls out, slightly mortified. 

“I’m just saying, man…” Sam holds up his hands in defense. 

“I don’t know what happened, okay?” Steve confesses, “We were done sparring and he was heading out and I just…” he mimes a slow-motion slap with his hand. 

“ _ Oh _ , so it was like a sports thing,” Sam says, as if that makes it perfectly understandable, “Like football players or something.” 

“It’s not something I do, Sam!” Steve says, and he can see Bucky wince in sympathy for him. 

“So how did he react?” Bucky asks. 

“He just… smiled and told me to be careful,” Steve says. 

“Careful?” Sam frowns. 

“What does that even mean?” Steve asks, exasperated, “He just went ‘careful, you!’ and left.” 

“Smiling?” Bucky asks. 

“Yeah.” 

“Doesn’t look like he was too upset,” Sam says, pointedly. 

“Tony’s pretty tactile anyway,” Bucky reasons.

“The man who doesn’t like to be handed things?” Sam raises an eyebrow. 

“With Steve,” Bucky clarifies, observantly, “With people he’s close to.”

Steve hopes that Bucky is right on this, because he’d hate to have made Tony uncomfortable. He doesn’t even want to think about that. 

“Let me tell you something,” Sam says, as he’s getting up off the couch and walking towards them, his tone serious now, “That man is nuts about you, Steve. And I know you’re blind to it, ‘cause even though you’re like superman or something, this kind of stuff is your weak spot. But trust me. Tony Stark does not mind getting felt up by you.”

Steve’s heart is thumping in his chest, because he wants to believe Sam so badly. He subconsciously looks over at Bucky, who meets his gaze. 

“He’s right,” Bucky just says, “‘bout all of it.” 

“Fuck…” Steve breathes out, because he really doesn’t know what to do with this information. 

“So what’cha gonna do, man?” Sam asks, crossing his arms in front of him. 

Steve is saved from answering - he doesn’t know what to say anyway - by Bucky’s snort. Sam and Steve both look over at him. 

“Nothing,” Bucky says, as answer to Sam’s question. 

Steve doesn’t contradict him. Bucky knows him too well. 

***

Steve refuses to ask FRIDAY to help him avoid Tony, despite the fact that it would make his life a little bit easier right now. But he’s just not that kind of guy. Or maybe he simply doesn’t want to acknowledge his feelings out loud, not even to a machine. 

So inevitably, he runs into Tony the next evening. 

It’s late, Steve thinks pretty much everyone has gone to bed, but Steve isn’t tired. He’s freshly showered and trimmed his beard neatly; Steve likes cleaning up in the evenings. He comes out into the common living room to pick up the book he’d been reading and left on the coffee table when he hears Tony approaching. 

“...to make sure those are done and sent to Pepper by the morning,” Tony’s voice filters in as he speaks to FRIDAY. 

He’s pulling on his tie as he comes into view, looking somewhat tired and annoyed. He starts a little as he sees Steve, clearly not expecting him. 

“Cap,” Tony says, visibly relaxing again, shrugging off his suit jacket and draping it over a chair. “You’re up late.” 

“I could say the same,” Steve says, swallowing back his nervousness. He vaguely remembers Tony having a meeting or an event tonight, but he thought that would have been over hours ago. Judging by the state of Tony - hair messed up, like he’s been running his fingers through it too often - things ran a lot later than expected. 

Tony sighs, rubbing his hands over his eyes. “Yeah,” he just says, not giving Steve any more details, but Steve can tell that whatever it was, Tony didn’t have fun. When he looks back at Steve though, he gives him a little smile. It’s tired and frayed, but it’s genuine, and Steve can’t help but return it. Tony stares at him for a moment, blinking slowly like he doesn’t really realize he’s staring, before running his hands through his hair - again - and muttering, “That fucking beard…” 

“What?” Steve asks softly, confused. His fingers automatically come up to touch it. 

“I swear to God,” Tony mutters absentmindedly as he reaches for his jacket and Steve can see the exhaustion seeping through every move he makes, “You gotta shave it, ‘cause if you’re gonna get even more hot, I’m just gonna…” He trails off, walking sluggishly towards the hallway. He doesn’t finish his thought and Steve isn’t entirely sure Tony realizes he’s said it. 

But Steve heard it and he’s never been more awake. 

***

It’s 4 AM and Steve is laying in his bed, wide awake, staring up at the ceiling. 

He can’t get Tony’s words out of his mind. Are Sam and Bucky right? The treacherous part of his brain can’t help but remind him that this could all be simple attraction. There’s no evidence that any of this would speak to feelings of any kind on Tony’s behalf. He can just think Steve is hot, nothing more. He could just want to get his rocks off and never speak of it again. Which is… not something Steve thinks he can do. Not with Tony. As much as the thought of Tony’s body against his pleases him, Tony’s hands running all over Steve’s skin, exploring every inch of it, trailing his mouth and tongue over it, and just… taking what he wants. (Steve would give it all willingly) It’s the kind of fantasy that has led to Steve taking matters into his own hands multiple times, but… if it’s just a one time thing, if Tony is only interested in some physical pleasure and nothing more, then Steve simply can’t offer that. Because Steve realizes he’s in way over his head. He loves Tony. He’s  _ in love _ with Tony, and he knows that Tony has the power to break his heart into a million pieces. Steve certainly isn’t going to help him do it by pretending he could be only a one time thing to Tony. 

Steve wants it all. 

“FRIDAY?” Steve asks, sitting up in his bed, wired up and unable to find any sleep. 

“Can I help you, Captain Rogers?” FRIDAY asks, dutifully. 

“Is Tony asleep?” Steve asks, even though he’s not entirely sure what he’d do if FRIDAY said no. 

“Yes, Captain. Boss is in a slow-wave sleep,” FRIDAY replies. 

“Okay…” Steve says, nodding, “Good.” 

He plops back down on his back, head hitting the pillow. Of course Tony’s asleep. He was all but dead on his feet earlier. It’s good that he’s getting some well-deserved rest. 

Steve turns on his side, pulling his blanket up over his shoulder as he closes his eyes. 

At least one of them should. 

***

It’s two in the afternoon and Steve is in the common living room going over some reports with Natasha when FRIDAY calls out for him. 

“Captain Rogers, Boss is awake and out of bed,” FRIDAY’s voice sounds through the room without warning. 

Steve can instantly feel his face heating up as Natasha raises her eyebrow at him. 

“I didn’t ask for her to warn me!” Steve says quickly in defense. 

“That is true,” FRIDAY says, before Natasha can even react - beyond giving Steve  _ a look, _ “But your inquiry during the night made me deduce that you might have wanted to be kept up to speed on when Boss would be waking. Hence my update.” 

“Uh,” Steve mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers, “Yeah, thanks.” 

He desperately needs to have a word in private with FRIDAY about this. 

“You keeping an eye on him when he’s sleeping now?” Natasha asks, a smirk tugging at her lips. 

“ _ No! _ I - no,” Steve shakes his head, “I was just.... I wanted to talk to Tony and since he sleeps at the oddest hours, I just asked FRIDAY… It’s a misunderstanding.” 

“Right,” Natasha says, nodding. 

“Yeah.” 

“Because you wanted to talk to Tony in the middle of the night,” Natasha adds, straight-faced. 

Steve groans as he gets up from his chair. 

“I’m just gonna…” he says, pointing towards the hallway. 

“Yeah, you do that,” Natasha says with a smirk, closing the folder with the report. 

Steve doesn’t offer her more of an explanation and makes his way towards Tony’s floor, asking FRIDAY to warn Tony he’s on his way. 

“Boss says he’s in the shower but asks if you will wait in the living room,” FRIDAY reports back a minute later. 

“Oh,” Steve says, stopping in his tracks in the hallway. “If it’s not a good time… I can come back later.” 

“Boss is adamant that he’ll be only a few minutes and insists that you wait for him in the living room,” FRIDAY says, after another moment of silence. 

Steve does as he’s told, stepping onto Tony’s floor - that FRIDAY has opened up for him - and going towards Tony’s living room. It’s only when he sits down on the couch that he realizes that he has no idea what he actually wants to say to Tony. He didn’t know during the night when he asked if Tony was awake, and he still doesn’t know now. All he knows is that he wants to see Tony, to talk to Tony. 

True to his word, Tony appears a few minutes later, hair still wet and combed back loosely - which is a ridiculously good look on him - wearing grey sweatpants and a shirt with a band name on it that Steve has never heard of. 

“Hey Steve,” Tony smiles, looking decidedly more upbeat than the last time Steve saw him. 

“Hey,” Steve says, looking up at Tony, “Your mood seems to have improved since last night.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Tony says, shaking his head wistfully, “Sorry about that. Crappy evening. I was a bit out of it, I think.” Tony frowns a bit and Steve can’t help but notice how his fingers drum against the fabric of his sweatpants or his bare toes curl into the carpet underneath them. 

“I didn’t shave my beard,” Steve blurts out before he gets sucked in by every little detail of Tony’s body, and it earns him a quizzical look. 

“What?” Tony asks, frowning, his eyes dropping to the beard instantly. “Why would you - ?”

“You said,” Steve says, because apparently he can’t stop himself, “Last night. You said I had to shave it or you were gonna…” 

“I was gonna what?” Tony asks, clearly trying to compose himself, but Steve can see the slight embarrassment in his eyes. 

“I don’t know,” Steve says, getting up on his feet and facing Tony, “You never finished your thought.” 

Tony swallows clearly enough that Steve can see it. He looks nervous and uneasy. 

“FRIDAY?” he calls out, keeping his eyes fixed on Steve. 

There’s a moment of silence as FRIDAY is searching for what Tony is asking for, and then there’s a recording playing through the air. 

_ “That fucking beard…”  _

_ “What?”  _

_ “I swear to God. You gotta shave it, ‘cause if you’re gonna get even more hot, I’m just gonna…”  _

The words hang heavy in the air and Tony’s cheeks turn a nice shade of pink, which Steve is sure matches his own. Steve didn’t think he’d hear those words again, played back at them, while they were staring at each other. He didn’t even know FRIDAY kept tabs on what they were saying. Another thing Steve has to have a word about at some point. With both FRIDAY and Tony. 

“Right,” Tony says, then clears his throat as he turns away from Steve slightly. He mutters, “Why did I do that?” and Steve isn’t sure if he’s referring to having FRIDAY bring up what he asked for, or to the actual things he said. 

Tony doesn’t like to be in the dark, Steve knows this, so he suspects it’s the latter. Tony has this need to be on top of everything, know everything. But Steve can seeTony regretting that now. 

“So you like the beard?” Steve asks, and it sounds stupid to his own ears, but at least it’s something to cut through the silence. 

“Uh,” Tony says, hesitantly, “Yeah.” 

Steve can’t help but bite his lip at the answer. 

“You uh,” Tony continues, searching out Steve’s eyes tentatively, “... like the ass?” 

Steve huffs out an embarrassed laugh.  _ Busted.  _

“Yeah…” Steve says eventually, because if Tony can be honest, then so can he. “I guess it’d be nice to know if, uh… we like it in the same way?” He’s barely making any sense, he knows it, but somehow it’s easier to fight off Chitauri than it is asking Tony straight up if he likes  _ him. _

“Well, I mean, an ass is an ass,” Tony goes off in a ramble, “It’s an entirely different part of the body than a beard, so I guess it’d only be normal if they’re not appreciated in the same way.” He’s talking with his hands, waving them around as he paces through the room. “You definitely have a fine looking ass as well, anyone can see that - ”

“Tony,” Steve says, because as much as he’d like to know what Tony has to say about his ass, there’s a more pressing matter on his mind. “Is it just something sexual? Like, a physical attraction?” 

Tony’s mouth snaps shut, his voice changing as he asks, “Is that what you want it to be?” 

“That’s not my question,” Steve says, his heart pounding in his chest. 

“Is that what it is for you?” Tony asks, deflecting once again, looking about as nervous as Steve feels. Nobody ever said Tony was going to make this easy on him. 

“That’s not my question either,” Steve says, but he shakes his head. “But no,” he says determined, “It’s not just…” He waves his hand in Tony’s direction, as if to indicate Tony’s body. “It’s you. All of you. And there’s definitely a physical attraction. I mean, you’re… you’re extremely handsome.” Steve’s cheeks heat up as the edge of Tony’s mouth twitches in a curl. “But I like  _ you _ ,” Steve admits, pushing through his fear and anxiety. “I like you so much, Tony.”

“I’m… a lot,” Tony says, almost apologetic, and Steve wants to find the person that ever made Tony apologize for being himself and teach him a lesson. 

“And I love all of it,” Steve says, and it’s only when the words are out there, hanging in the air between them with no way of taking them back - not that Steve would really want to - that he realizes what he’s said. That he’s gone from ‘like’ to ‘love’ in an unguarded moment of honesty and even though Steve means every word of it, he’s not entirely sure what to make of the wide brown eyes that are staring back at him, lips slightly parted, breath heavy and shaky. 

Because Steve realizes that while he’s been baring his heart for Tony, Tony never actually answered any of his questions. 

“Tony…” Steve says, bracing himself for a mental punch, “How I feel doesn’t matter if you don’t…” 

“The beard adds about fifty percent more heat to your already maxed out hotness level,” Tony says in a rush, as if he’s reciting business numbers, and while it’s a nice thing to hear, Steve’s stomach drops because that’s not all he wants to be for Tony. “It’s kind of unfair, really. But I’m willing to put up with it, because it’s you and… I kind of… love you too.” 

The way Tony says the words make Steve wonder if Tony has ever said them out loud before. Steve is convinced that his heart skips a beat, but his body can take it, and he takes one step forward, his hand cupping Tony’s jaw, and his lips crashing down on Tony’s. Tony opens up almost instantly beneath him, kissing Steve back hungrily, like he’s been starving for Steve’s touch. Tony’s tongue swipes out to catch Steve’s, his hands gripping around Steve’s body, burrowing himself as close into Steve as he possibly can. 

A moan escapes Steve’s lips, caught into Tony’s mouth, as Steve’s hands drifts over Tony’s body, down his back, stopping somewhere on the small of his back. Tony smiles into the kiss, pressing his lips against Steve’s sweetly before pulling back just enough to whisper, “Go ahead, Soldier.”

Steve hides the flush of his cheeks by catching Tony in a kiss again, and with Tony’s permission, his palms slide slowly over the curve of his ass, fingers digging into his cheeks. His entire body feels like it’s about to shiver out of his skin. 

“Steve,” Tony moans as their mouths break for a millisecond, clearly enjoying the attention Steve’s fingers are giving his body. His arms find their way around Steve’s shoulders, one hand slipping underneath his shirt, rough fingertips tracing over his skin. His face is glued to Steve’s, lips mapping out the bow of his lips, his teeth scraping over the line of his jaw, his cheek scratching against Steve’s beard like an animal seeking closeness. 

With one swift move, Steve slips his hands from Tony’s ass towards his thighs and lifts him up. Tony wraps his legs around Steve’s waist instantaneously, they both know Steve can carry the weight. 

The kiss is eager and hungry, and yet there’s a sweetness to it that Steve didn’t expect, but welcomes with open arms. Tony’s lips taste like salvation, the touch imprinting in Steve’s brain, never to be forgotten again. 

“So…” Steve says, as Tony is gasping for air, his face buried in Steve’s neck, his hair - still wet from the shower - tickling against Steve’s skin. “What was it that you were gonna do?” 

“Huh?” Tony asks, lifting his head and meeting Steve’s eyes. 

“If I didn’t shave,” Steve asks, his tongue darting out to chase the taste of Tony’s lips off his own. 

Tony’s mouth curls into a sly grin, and he squeezes his legs a little tighter around Steve’s waist, pressing his hips revealingly against Steve’s. 

“Why don’t I show you?” Tony asks, and any answer Steve could give is swallowed by Tony’s kiss. 

***

_ Fin _


End file.
